Once upon a time, there was this guy. He was shipped off to the middle of the desert with a bunch of other guys, most of whom were five years his junior. Most of these other guys, they were Israeli, this shipping process having been under the auspices of basic training with the Israeli Defense Forces. But two of the guys, that is two of the guys in addition to *our* guy, two of the guys were American.

And one of them was crazy.

It wasn’t his fault. Some people just shouldn’t be shipped off to the middle of the desert, with or without a bunch of other guys. But one day they figured out that he was crazy, and they assigned two people to watch him at all times. Two people he could relate to. Two Americans. Now, he was one of the two American guys, so what remained of the Americans in the group were the other guy, and *our* guy.

So they watched him, like they were asked. Two people with him at all times, making sure he was okay, making sure he was not getting into trouble. And after a period of time that was not very long at all, there were three crazy Americans.

What can you do? It happens.

A day passed. Because of the day of Sabbath the crazy American, that is the *first* crazy American, could not be sent to a place where he would no longer be crazy. So the watch continued, and the day of rest became a day of stress, and another day passed.

Sunday arrived, and with it a bus. Well, more than one bus. The crazy American, the first crazy American, boarded one bus. *Our* crazy American boarded a different bus in the company of a Russian. This Russian, in an experience he had shared with our American, had been told that his skills in Hebrew may not be sufficient, and that he would need to be interviewed back in the land of the sane. This land was a four-hour bus ride away, followed by a two-hour train ride, followed by another half-hour bus ride.

And the Russian guy, along with *our* guy, had gotten on the wrong bus. And so our guy found himself in the middle of a desert with no TV or internet and only the company of a Russian man to comfort him.

But all roads lead to Rome, and all busses lead to a central bus station, and eventually the two had found their way.

But the land of the sane is not nearly as sane as the name would imply. The office in question was hard to find, and the officer in question was even harder to find. He took one look at the Russian and gave him permission to go back to the desert. And he took one look at the American and gave him permission to go back to the desert. And so they returned.

Or so they tried. Because they had become side-tracked while looking for the train, and because they had become side-tracked while looking for the office, and because they had spent time waiting for the officer, it was already too late to return to the desert, which was, as you know, a six-hour trip.

So the two found a place to sleep in an apartment that was not yet home. It was an apartment that contained only bed enough for one fewer person than needed to stay there. And neither the American guy nor the Russian guy had thought to bring anything for over-night. But it worked, and the next morning they found their way back to the desert.

Our guy had thought to bring his iPod with him, but not a way to keep it charged, and so he soon found himself on a six-hour trip, after a night on half of a bed with no pillow, after a day of running and not finding, after two days of watching over a crazy person, with no music to relax him and nothing to do.

And so he resolved to create his own music. A phone rang behind him on the bus, the ringtone a simple, slow, two-chord progression. He stole it, and he built on it, and before long, he had written a song.

To the north is a cliff face
To the south is the sea
And there’s nothing between the two
But you and me
And I say

Isn’t that the way it should be
Every day
I know we got lives outside this
But that’s ok
Long as I’m here with you and
You’re here with me
There’s nothing in this world that
I’d rather be

Above is a blanket
Below is a bed
Between are two pillows
Protecting two heads
And one says

Isn’t this the way it should be
Every day
I know we got lives outside this
But that’s okay
Long as I’m here with you and
You’re here with me
There’s nothing in this world that
I’d rather be

(haunting harmonica solo)

Isn’t that the way it should be
Every day
I know we got lives outside this
But that’s okay
Long as I’m here with you and
You’re here with me
There’s nothing in this world that
I’d rather be

As an epilogue to this story, one which may be interesting or may not, dependent entirely on how soon you find yourself reading this, that day on the bus was February 8, 2010.